


Self Discovery

by HoneyGrunge



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: But not much this is real monster cock hours, Enthusiastic Consent, Exophilia, F/M, Mindfuck, Monsterfucker, More like mind breaking but not totally?, Mutant Cock, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Penis In Vagina Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Masturbation, Semi-Public Sex, Size Kink, Some Plot, Tags May Change, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Teratophilia, Uncircumcised Penis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2019-11-13 03:58:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18024224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyGrunge/pseuds/HoneyGrunge
Summary: A coworker helps you gain limited access to the newest Tyrant model. A very special lesson follows, and the mutant learns a few things about himself. Will you get the chance to teach him even more?





	1. Visual Aid

**Author's Note:**

> My last X fic was pretty dark so I wanted to try something different, slower paced, and more lighthearted!

"X has a horsecock."

"He WHAT?" you splutter, choking on your swig of coffee and gaping at your coworker as it dribbles down your chin.

Craw leans forward, treating you to one of his characteristic teasing smirks. Your shocked expression stares back at you, reflecting against the dark computer screen and triggering a smile when you realize just how stupid you look.

"I SAID: That new Tyrant? T-00? The SUPER hunky one?? Well...they gave him fully functional and REALLY chunky boy parts," he snickers, flying into a helpless guffaw when you arch a pleased brow.

You roll your eyes and fight a smile, resuming your paperwork and giving him a sidelong glance when he follows suit. Grabbing a pencil, you lean over and poke him with it, cocking your head.

"I mean...did you see it??"

"Uh, obviously not, but Janie works directly with the prototypes and she said it's longer than her forearm. Apparently his hormones are all out of balance too so he keeps getting boners, but he doesn't know what to do with them so he just sits there."

You sigh and spread your papers across the desk, now completely unable to focus on the work. Sex isn't that common in the labs, despite the presence of dorms; everyone is usually too busy or sleep deprived to have frequent dalliances.

You could use some fresh wankbank material, to be quite honest...

"But I mean...WHY did they give him a dick?"

Craw shrugs, typing away at his keyboard and humming your least favorite pop song under his breath.

"Who knows? I think they're gonna try to breed him at some point, maybe make a lady X cum dumpster for him to fuck senseless."

You gnaw your lip, quickly pulling off your earpiece and leaning even closer.

"Do you...do you think Janie could sneak us in? Just for a peek?" you beg.

Craw definitely has a hard-on for you; has ever since you got teamed up two months ago. Unfortunately for him, he's not your type: too egotistical, just too...middle aged and boring.

And besides...humans aren't exactly your sexual focus.

You know a little extra cleavage and a kicked up pout always gets you what you want with Craw, so you put your womanly wiles to work and let him have a good view down your shirt. He stares, eyes flicking back up to yours, shameless lust glittering in his too-intense gaze.

"I already planned a rendezvous for tonight," he says, smug and satisfied. "It's actually not a security breach to just look at him, 'cuz he's quarantined. Janie gave me two key cards, one for each of us, so here you go."

He slides one across the table to you, yanking it back and slapping his palm over it before you can grab it.

"BUT, come on...you gotta give a guy a kiss for his effort," he nudges, smiling in mock sweetness when you roll your eyes.

"For the love of Cthulhu, NO means NO Craw," you growl.

He relents, quietly resuming his typing while you thumb the laminated card. Goosebumps shiver up and down your body and you replace your earpiece, feeling yourself growing wet between the legs. 

God, it's gonna be a long day.

 

 

 

Finally, FINALLY, you clock out at 11 pm, ending the 12 hour workday. It's gruelling, but over all worth it: Umbrella pays a hefty $120k a year for tenured employees.

You hurry back to your dorm room and change into your casuals, nearly tripping over a book when your phone blips out a message.

"Hey, be down here in 30 mins, most of the lab ppl are gone so we'll have chunkster alllll to ourselves ;)"

Muttering, you rue the fact that you have to have Craw with you, but maybe you can sneak down there again sometime soon. All by your lonesome, unbothered while you sit and stare....and MAYBE take pictures.

You hurry, winding yourself as you careen down the stairs and almost collide with multiple coworkers. Offering hasty apologies, you squeeze past them, zooming to your destination as fast as your legs can carry you.

Gasping, you stop in front of a heavy set of basement doors. They're plastered with multiple warnings: no photography, no unauthorized entry, etc etc. Your heart thuds with excitement and you swipe the key card with a trembling hand, swinging the door open when the lock turns green.

The first thing you register is Craw, who's sitting on a small bench outside of the enclosure, snacking on a candy bar. And then, him.

"Holy fucking shit....," you breathe. 

The Tyrant is sitting on the ground, mimicking Craw. He's at least three times bigger than the human, shoulders hunched and defined abs popping as he intently stares at the man. His head turns as you walk up, fixing you with an unbreaking, emotionless stare.

"He's fuckin' spectacular, right??" Craw exclaims, reaching out to tap the glass.

You silently nod, gaping and blushing as the mutant shifts and scoots himself closer to the glass. He's still watching you; you're very aware of the fact that you picked a low-cut shirt and borderline booty shorts for the visit.

You'll see that penis one way or another. 

X is currently only dressed in a basic pair of briefs, the sizable bulge jutting out to an impressive distance. If that's his soft, his hard might just give you an aneurysm. 

"Janie said they can't put him in anything else because he just rips it off whenever he gets an erection; he's pretty obedient otherwise, they just gotta get his hormones under control."

You barely register Craw's conversation, leaning forward until your breasts are almost sliding out of the shirt, giving X an experimental wave. He cocks his head, looking down at his own hand and lifting it. He mimics the movement, waving the massive paw and looking back at you. Giddiness threatens to overcome you; you can't help but squeak in excitement.

"So...should we try to give him a boner?" Craw asks. "Looks like he's already a little excited."

Sure enough, the thick cock has become more defined through the sleek black briefs. 

"I mean sure, but...how?" you ask. You have a couple ideas in mind, but you'd prefer Craw to not be present for them.

"Well....you could show him your tits?"

You balk at the outrageous suggestion, snorting out an incredulous laugh. 

"Right sure, so every cam security guard can fap to me? Nah."

"But Janie said this room doesn't have surveillance; the glass is so durable that not even a rocket launcher can break it."

You glance back at X and find him to still be intently staring; he notices the glance and reaches out to tap the glass just like Craw had. He thunks a thick finger against it until you look at him again, blushing when a look of...satisfaction? Crosses his broad features.

"....yeah, ok. But YOU can't look, or I'll break him out of there and make him rip your balls off," you threaten. Craw shrugs in defeat, spreading his hands and chuckling.

"Hey babe, you're not the only one that loves cock."

X grunts loud enough for you to hear him through the glass when you get up onto your knees and shuffle over, stopping just outside the thick glass. He pushes a palm flat against the barrier and rests his forehead against it, looking sullen and bored.

Why do they always have to treat their creations like prisoners?

Craw's presence is pushed to the back of your mind; you reach down and start to rub your clit through your shorts. X's eyes drop to your crotch and he glances down at his own half-mast boner, fingers tugging at the waistband. He has no navel, having been engineered in a test tube. You can't help but imagine licking your way down that smooth, solid expanse....

X grunts again and you nod, rubbing harder and encouraging him to pull himself out. As he pulls at the band again, you nervously reach behind you to unclip your bra and pull the front of your shirt down over your breasts.

The Tyrant's reaction is instant. He sits straighter, a low rumble carrying through the floor as his cock gives a visible flex.

"Ohohoooooo he LOVED that," Craw laughs, and you scowl at his reflection in the glass.

Just shut the fuck up, you'll get your turn with him later Craw.

You arch your neck and toy with your nipples, biting your lip as the masculine hand slips below the band and starts to lower it.

"Yeah, yeah...show me, please," you murmur. 

Finally, the band snaps and the delicious chunk of meat falls out, quickly followed by two grapefruit sized balls.

You can't help but moan, uncaring that Craw is getting an earful that he'll probably jack off to later on. All that matters is that gorgeous cock.

The head is widely flared, blunt tip perfectly proportional and split with a dusky dark grey, drooling urethra. A wrinkly foreskin clings to the edges of his coronal ridge, popping over it to settle behind the ridge when he reaches down to poke and stroke, following your suggestive actions.

He gives a pleased grunt, eyes fixating on your breasts once more and other hand joining its partner down below his waist. A string of precum drips down to the metal floor and he reaches down to dab at it, smearing it across the floor in curiosity. You regain his attention by pushing yourself fully against the glass and letting out a loud groan.

He returns the noise with a loud barking grumble, hand shyly raising to pet at your body through the glass.

God, but if this isn't the most erotic situation you've EVER been in.

X's hand has discovered the art of masturbation, closing two fingers around his shaft and squeezing to give the sensation of a tight hole.

"Smart boy," you whisper, leaning forward to kiss the glass.

He's grunting quite steadily now, resting his forehead against the glass and working the soft foreskin back and forth. There's no end to his precum now, thick ropes of it dribbling all over his hand and the floor.

"Ohhhhh man, is he gonna cum?" Craw breathes from his spot behind you. From the sounds of it, he might be joining you and X in the very XXX rated activity.

But just then, something flicks out of his urethra. You stare, cheeks pinkening and pussy throbbing.

Does...does he have tentacles?

And sure enough, X shudders in pleasure, thumbing the sensitive head until the black tendril slips out again. It's shy, slowly exploring his skin and brushing against his own hand before wrapping itself around the girthy length.

Smaller tentacles are wiggling out from previously un-noticeable slits in the underside, caressing his fingers and spreading a dark grey fluid. X is panting now, desperately knocking his hand against the glass in an attempt to get at you.

Unable to take it anymore, you shove a hand down your shorts and furiously rub your clit, unzipping the pants to expose the top of your vulva to the masturbating Tyrant.

X freezes, a higher pitched keening noise echoing in the cell. The tentacles shiver, twisting excitedly against his still moving hand.

A thick spurt of black fluid hits the glass; X chokes out a loud roar. You can't help but orgasm watching it, thighs shaking as you stare. Rope after rope after rope, painting the glass higher and higher, each twitch getting more dramatic as his body milks itself.

As soon as you're done, you yank your shirt back up, struggling to zip your pants. A handler is most certainly coming to check on the mutant after all his commotion; you envy whoever has to clean up that sexy mess. Scrubbing the thick cum off those granite thighs...instead of licking it off.

You turn around and Craw is blushing, wiping his own cum off the floor with a suspiciously handy rag he'd stored in his pocket.

"A man can never be too prepared," he jokes, and you laugh, turning away from X to push yourself up.

A low, whining rumble begs to regain your attention and you turn. X is standing now, looking thoroughly bewildered and almost a little...lonely?

But you don't have any more time to keep him company. You have to hightail it before you can be identified as the employees that got him so worked up. You probably wouldn't get anything worse than a yelling at, but they'd still probably take away your ability to see him anymore.

You hurry after Craw as X continues making the noise, pausing on your way out to blow a kiss. X repeats the gesture, staring until a handler opens his cell from the other side and groans in annoyance at the mess. He sighs and reaches for his walkie.

"I need assistance on aisle 3, Mr. 00 just found out how to make himself ejaculate...and might I add, this was NOT in the job description!!"

Little does he know just how envied his job is by some of his coworkers...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr and Twitter: Maedhros36  
> I hope you enjoyed <333


	2. Hands On Experience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chap's a little lighter on the porn but I promise, I'll go all out on the chaps to cum!

"Employees that wish to gain extra hours and a high risk bonus may contact Tobias Forge, manager of the handler division."

You mumble the words under your breath as you read the company wide email, squeezing the computer mouse in excitement and snatching up your phone to text Craw. After sending it you nearly give your wrist whiplash trying to sign up as fast as you can, hoping with all your might that you get assigned to X.

Observing through a window just isn't gonna cut it anymore. 

You've only been to see him once more since that first time, but he'd been undergoing multiple tests so it wasn't exactly the best scenario to get naked. But HE hadn't understood that, still being somewhat naive and fresh out of the tank, and had left two rather flustered handlers to stare in embarrassment when he eagerly pushed his briefs down.

Who knew Tyrant erections got more people to quit than talons and sharp teeth?

You sigh and stretch, leaning back and checking your phone. Craw's messaged you back, seeming a little more afraid than you are.

'Shit, dunno...I mean, he's nice to look at but he could accidentally smash something without even knowing. Plus, sneaking in and ACTUALLY FUCKING HIM sounds like something worthy of termination.'

Well, fine then.

But a monsterfucker's gotta fuck.

Cowards be damned.

 

 

 

"Ok here, this is your belt, and you aren't required to wear a mask around him but if he starts showing signs of DNA instability, that'll change."

You nod and nervously slip the sturdy belt through your pants loops, glancing at the maximum security access door. They'd been fast to recruit you, taking only 6 hours to reply. To be quite honest, you're not sure if you're mentally prepared to see him yet...his sheer muscle, his massiveness, all up close and personal. 

And what's more...he associates you with sexual pleasure now.

How will he react when he sees you on the other side of the divide?

As you pull on your thick rubber boots, fear starts to trickle through your veins. Does he understand consent? There's no way in hell you could fight him off if he actually tried to mount you when you weren't ready, or if he tried to access a hole that you don't want him to...

"Look, you'll be fine, he's quite docile and only gets mad if you feed him late. He's really similar to us, he just needs to learn. The worst part is cleaning up the aftermath of his masturbation sessions....it's like a BIC factory explosion, Christ, why they ever thought a sex drive was a good idea is BEYOND me," the handler manager chatters, clipping your key card to your jumper and finally leading you to the door.

"Oh, and another thing," Forge says, stopping you with an outstretched arm. "Stay out of the way of his genitalia tentacles. He's been grabbing people with them. Not attacking, just like the Tyrant version of seduction I guess."

You nod, excitement and nervousness alike boiling in your gut as the door finally clunks open and you slip through. A long hallway leads you past a row of enclosures; true fear spikes in your chest when you pass multiple toothy, snarling specimens.

"These are actually set for termination, our last batch was incredibly hostile and just too difficult to control, X is the first successful one. His vocal cords didn't turn out right so we're teaching him some simple sign language, he's catching on pretty well actually."

Being so absorbed in the man's explanations, you haven't even realized that you've reached X's private, non-public domain. Prototype T-00, the digital screen reads. Your coworker swipes and punches in the code for access; your heart races and your hands tremble as you walk through the door.

X is dwarfing a table, sitting with a blonde woman who you recognize as a Birkin: Annette, William's wife. She turns and smiles when you enter, setting down the math and sign language flashcards. X grunts, reflexively turning to look at you. He's actually wearing a shirt this time, but that's the only stitch of clothing on him apart from his usual briefs.

You inwardly cringe when he gets up too quickly, nearly knocking the table over and greeting you by blowing another kiss. Annette orders him to sit back down and he obeys, but his eyes are still fixated on you.

"Well, my time with him is up for the day, just paige me if anything unexpected happens. Oh, and he's scheduled for his attempted surgery tomorrow morning so make sure he doesn't eat anything after 8 pm."

She turns and shakes your hand, giving you a friendly smile...but also a look of amused realization.

....does she know something?

You gulp when she leaves, trying to focus on X instead of your fears. Your coworker surprisingly decides to leave you alone with him, suggesting that you establish a connection before trying to give orders later on.

"Like I said, docile, but he can be stubborn, so don't be afraid to put your foot down," he says, leaving to go check on some of the other creatures. 

You're not even in the seat yet when X grumbles in excitement, reaching forward in an attempt to grasp at the protective material of your suit. You blush, heart racing as the thick fingers brush against you and make the first contact you've ever had with him.

But then, he's bending over the table without warning, yanking you up and over it to straddle his lap.

"SHIT!" you scream, legs tensing and gloved fingers digging into the soft material of his shirt.

HolyshitholyshitholyMOTHERFUCKINGSHIT.

The first thing you notice even through the panic is his skin. It's much warmer than yours; he's like a walking furnace. If not for the surprise aspect of the situation, you'd willingly curl up in the crook of his massive arm and take a much needed nap.

SPEAKING of massive.

You're sitting directly on top of his bulge.

His arms move to squeeze you against his chest and you finally blow your top, shoving against his chest and gasping.

"PUT ME DOWN!!"

He obeys, letting you slide off his lap and looking a little confused, signing something that you can't understand. You look down at the flashcards and shuffle through them, finally coming across the one you're looking for.

He'd said sorry.

A soft whine fills the awkward silence while you stare at him, and you can't help but offer a relieved grin.

So he understands boundaries, then.

"You...you just scared me...that's all, sorry for screaming," you whisper, and he cocks his head, trying to understand you.

You lick your lips and shuffle closer, feeling more comfortable with him now. He eagerly leans forward, grunting out a gust of warm air that ruffles your hair. Now you're barely inches from him; you pull off your gloves and reach out a daring hand. You stand on your tiptoes, gently stroking his cheek.

His reaction is stronger than any other you've seen him give: he shudders, leaning into the touch and timidly reaches out to copy the gesture.

"God, you must be so confused...woke up in this cold facility, knowing absolutely nothing, and on top of that you can't fuck and cuddle those primal urges out."

X rumbles, reaching for you again. This time you're more than willing, sliding your hands up his corded arms with a look of awe. His skin is extremely firm, yet still pliable, allowing your fingers to squeeze down into it for stability.

But before he can pull you up, the door opens. You quickly release him, pulling away and hoping he follows suit.

"Everything ok? I heard yelling."

"Uh...yeah, yeah...he just...picked me up. But he put me right back down."

Forge looks surprised, glancing at X's hubcap sized hands on your hips.

"Damn...uh, he's not usually touchy feely, sorry about that. Anyway it's time for his nightly shower. T-00, follow please."

You beckon for him and X plods after you. Halfway through the walk you feel something poking at your head; you turn only to get your chin squeezed by the massive hand.

GOD, he could effortlessly crush your skull.

"What are you doing?" you giggle, and he resumes playing with your hair, curious that most of you other, pinker beings have fuzzy tops.

Forge glances back and gives you a look of admiration. 

"I've never seen anyone take to him that fast, and vice versa. If you're comfortable with it, I feel confident letting you handle him alone for the most part. He knows how to do most of his tasks, but he may need help with odds and ends. Just comm me at any time and I'll try to come help, ok?"

"Yeah, sure," you agree, distracted now that X's warm hand is feeling up the back of your neck.

What would that hand feel like squeezing your breasts?

X walks into the shower of his own volition, pulling off his shirt and struggling a little bit with his arm coordination. You watch, standing off to the side and debating what the fuck you should do.

You're definitely under surveillance at all times in here, and even though X may be consenting, he's property of Umbrella. 

And the most important question......will he infect you with the virus?

You're yanked out of your thoughts when X reaches for his briefs, pulling them down and stepping out, neatly folding them and placing them on a chair to the right.

As expected, he's hardening.

He looks at you, and you walk closer. Closer, until you're right in front of his muscular abdomen, staring up into his intimidating face.

Fuck it.

You reach out and glance back up at him, waiting for his reaction. He grabs your hand, tiny in comparison to his, and pulls until your palm is finally resting flat against the weepy head of his now fully hard cock.

The noise you make in the back of your throat is obscene, and X responds with a similar growl. 

This can't be happening. 

It's too perfect.

"Oh my god you're perfect, you're beautiful," you breathe, sliding your hand down to grasp his ultra girthy shaft and slide the slick, dark grey foreskin all the way back. 

He's too thick for just one hand, so you add your other, staring at the pulsing veins and finally, FINALLY, pleasuring the monster of your dreams.

He makes a new noise, a higher pitched keen when you gently tug at one of the thick foreskin folds, massaging it between your fingers. It's softer than the rest of his skin, almost velvety. You surprise him by pulling it forward and leaning down to lick at it, eliciting a thunderous shudder.

Suddenly, his hand is behind your head. Literally half of your skull is resting in his palm.

He's not pushing, just there.

'Please don't stop,' the gesture begs.

So you don't. 

You can't take anything past his fat, smooth glans, but he doesn't care. You're jerking him off with both hands while you hollow your cheeks and suck with all your might, slipping a hand down to fondle his heavy, shower dampened balls. He doesn't taste unpleasant; if anything he tastes salty and metallic.

He's panting now, letting out a rhythmic series of grunts. You're losing yourself in his body, eyes sliding closed and a hand sliding up his abs as the heavy flow of precum begins.

But suddenly, the hand is gone.

He's pushing you away, pressing your shoulders until you're kneeling. 

He wants you on the ground.

You comply, slightly fearful at his unknown plan. But he doesn't lay on top of you; instead he reaches out to palm your crotch and signify that he wants to practice what you've just taught him.

You quickly undo the suit's zippers, sliding out of it enough to bare yourself to him. Wiggling your panties down and spreading your legs, shivering on the cold stone ground.

He makes the keening noise again, and your breath stops when the tentacles reveal themselves once more. They're moving fast this time, sliding up your legs and tightening, pulling you further apart and spreading his grey slick all over your goosebump covered skin.

"Oh god....," you whimper as he lumbers down onto his elbows, grasping each hip in a hand and pushing his flat lips against your labia.

A thick black tongue slips out and starts to lap at your clit. It's slightly rough like a cat's, but not to the point of discomfort. You can't help but buck and moan, reaching down to claw his scalp and gasp when his rumbles vibrate in your very bones.

But then, the shower door opens. X keeps going, completely enthralled with his current activity.

Annette and Forge stare down at you. Forge looks utterly flabbergasted; Annette simply looks intrigued. 

"...why is my Tyrant neck deep in your vagina? I think we ought to have a talk."


	3. Resuming the Lesson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been having writer's block lately so bear with me if this is a little lackluster ;_;
> 
> And I know his facial expressions never really change in the game, but for the sake of the story quality I had to change that aspect since he doesn't talk either

The cold metal of the chair chills your thighs through the protective pants, sending goosebumps up your spine as you wait for the scientist to enter the room and most likely fire you. While you wait, you glance around at the academic awards plastered all over her walls. They give the room a cold, detached appearance; no bit of warmth or hint of a family.

You shift and glance down at yourself, sliding a finger over the sticky residue that X had left all over your body. It'd taken more than a little effort to coax him into letting you go; he'd seemed territorial, but finally Annette had managed to get him out of the room, leaving you to hurriedly redress in relative privacy. Forge had fainted seconds after witnessing the scene and had to be taken away on a stretcher; you feel a pang of guilt at the fact that he'd busted his head open on the way down.

But it had been more than worth it.

You jump and straighten as the door is pushed open, face flushing deep as her heels click, carrying her into your peripheral vision. She sits, regarding you with not judgment, but a look of intense curiosity and calculation. The expression softens the tension in your muscles, allowing you to relax against the back support as she quickly signs into her computer with a finger and retinal scan combo.

"So, Ms. Y/N," she starts, pulling away from the machinery and giving you a tight lipped but not unkind smile. "You understand that I was more than a little shocked to see you ah...being pleasured by T-00? And of course, I must ask: did he use force?"

You shake your head, licking your dry lips and and struggling to meet her intense gaze.

"No...I um, I just...I wanted to," you simply explain, flushing again and beginning to panic as you obsess over the fact that your hard-earned career most likely won't survive this slip-up. But you can't focus on your thoughts, beginning to sweat as she stares holes through you as if you yourself are one of her specimens.

"You do understand that you've exposed yourself to the T-virus and I cannot guarantee that you won't show signs of infection in the next twenty four hours?" she asks, and you nod. "We'll be monitoring you in quarantine to protect the employee population from any outbreaks."

She pauses, leaning forward onto her elbows. 

"But I must say...it's truly remarkable that your sexual fantasy was strong enough to even make you disregard such terrible risks," she murmurs. "A colleague of mine, an Umbrella psychologist, would most definitely be interested in speaking with you about this, and I myself have some propositions if you're willing to hear them."

You blink, shocked at the direction this conversation is taking. 

"Sure...please, I'm all ears," you prompt, watching a slow smile spread across her face.

"Well, Umbrella is EXTREMELY interested in interspecies relationship studies. So far we've had little success, with the humans either becoming infected or being killed right away. But I think what we have here, between you and our prototype...this is beyond anything we could have imagined. And you would be our very first willing participant, which adds another facet to the kaleidoscope."

The ominous implication resonates, threatening the back of your throat with a surge of bile. You've heard rumors that Umbrella uses unwilling human test subjects, most often homeless people. But now, knowing that it's true, you can't help but balk.

If you were to say no, would they even give you a choice?

Annette notices your souring expression, so she offers a reassuring smile and leaning even further across the table. 

"In my humble opinion, I don't think you're going to become infected. T-00 has a very stable DNA structure, and William agrees that the virus seeks to reproduce by copulation with 00, not infection. He ejaculates, he doesn't implant a fetus...as far as we know. We think...we think we may have finally created a super 'human'. A super soldier that could socialize with us on levels we never could have anticipated. And your help would be invaluable. If you survive, you'll be given ten year's salary at once. What do you say?"

You have a vague suspicion that the bribery might be a lie, but you push the fear to the back of your mind and nod once more. You feel like a bobblehead and a guinea pig, surrendering yourself to these experiments, knowing that there's no way they'd let you walk away with all this information in your head.

"I'll do it," you agree, dry tongue clinging to the roof of your mouth as Annette grins and immediately begins to compose an email, marking the beginning of what you know is going to be a wild ride.

But despite all the fear, a thrilled buzz fills you as you realize that this probably means you get to have endless contact with X. 

As far as monsterfucking goes, you're living the goddamn dream.

 

 

 

"Now please sign here....here....no no, HERE....okay, now here....and that's perfect, thanks," the lawyer rushes, swiping the papers up off the desk and slipping the folder into his briefcase. He withdraws and gives you a terse farewell, exiting the room as Annette double checks your blood samples in search of mutation evidence. So far, nothing has seemed out of the ordinary. Now that the threat of infection has faded, the excitement is finally getting a chance to build, and you're practically vibrating in the seat. Annette turns, pulling out a clipboard and gesturing for you to follow her.

"Time for your first monitored encounter," she gushes, seeming just as excited as you are.

The unfortunate reminder sets a slight damper on your spirits as she leads you down multiple flights of stairs. The Umbrella psychologist had explained that all encounters had to be recorded and possibly witnessed from here on out, both for your safety (though what could these puny humans really do to protect you) and for the test logs.

You can only hope that you don't become an accidental porn star due to leaked footage. 

Your thoughts are interrupted as two militarized guards grant you access through yet another steel door, Annette marching on ahead of you with confidence as you move into the very heart of the compound. Glowing red tanks containing unrecognizable organic growths line the walls; you squint and walk closer to them, slowing behind the scientist. She notes the falter in your footsteps and turns, watching you.

"Embryos from our past tests," she explains. "These are implantations, no test subject has conceived through intercourse."

"And...I might?" you whisper, a pit growing in your stomach as you stare at the deformed half humans.

"Of course...it's a hazard of the job," she snorts, waving you onward and finally swiping her keycard at a nondescript door. She beckons you inside and you hear the door close behind you, whipping around and staring at it with wide eyes.

"Mrs. Birkin will be observing from an undisclosed location, like the others," a woman's voice calls, and you turn to see a fellow handler dressed in heavy duty, head-to-toe close quarters gear.

And next to her, is him.

X is fully dressed this time, swathed in all black, complete with an imposing trenchcoat and simple black hat. Belts are strapped across every single one of his muscular appendages, and you can't help but flush when he takes a hesitant step closer. It's quite...kinky, for lack of a better word. Whether they'd intended it to be or not.

He grunts, signing hello and giving the signature blown kiss, glancing down at the handler and back up at you, torn between obedience and excitement. The handler nudges his arm and shoves him towards a doorway to the left that's too short for him; his hat accidentally getting knocked off in the process. She turns to you next, giving you a slightly dirty smirk and waving you inside.

"They want it to be as normal as possible, so just ah...head right on in and get started," she snickers.

Scowling, you slink past her, surveying the bare mid-sized room and the soft looking mattress placed smack in the middle of it. The lights are slightly dimmed, set to incandescent instead of fluorescent.

It's quite pathetic instead of mood setting, but at least an effort was made.

And then your vision is cut off, his familiar massive form stepping up in front of you as he stares down with an unreadable expression. Sweat gathers on your forehead and at the small of your back, your fear spiking.

They're not going to intervene if he starts using force, that much is clear. 

Shaking, you decide that there's nothing else to do but begin, so you walk past him and abruptly sit on the surprisingly soft cushion. He follows, hefty boots thudding; reaching down to undo the trench coat and dropping down to one knee. It falls open to reveal a tight fitting undershirt made of a matte latex-like material, three shiny buckles strapped across his chest and even more up at his throat. Your arousal finally breaks through the fear and discomfort at being watched; you reach an uncertain hand out to rest on his massive bulge.

He gives you a new sound, a deep rumbling growl, as if he KNOWS this time will be different. It sends a searing hot poker of arousal shivering all the way through your body, and you can't help but scoot closer to undo the larger buckle of his pants, wiggling until the goods finally come spilling out. Then suddenly you're flat on your back, slammed into the mattress, the palm squeezing your face but not too harshly, another firm hand flat on your abdomen.

"S-someone's desperate," you half giggle, half stutter, more for yourself than anything. The terror is harsh enough to cause heart palpitations now; you can feel the skips as your heart stutters with your words.

But then, the hand is gone, and your shirt is torn completely open by his gloved hands, which come to a stop on each of your hips. You stare up at him; at his face which now looks utterly starved and desperate for release, at his heaving chest, at his swollen and dripping cock. The foreskin is still bunched at the tip, wrinkled and oozing, just begging to be massaged and kissed. But you can't get your face to it, so you make do with your hand. He watches as you reach up and pinch it between your fingers, gently rubbing until he shudders and unexpectedly smacks your hand away. You cringe away from him and he tears at your pants, demanding entry. This is the most forceful he's ever been, and if you're being honest with yourself, it's also the sexiest he's ever been.

Your pants are discarded, your panties flung aside.

And then he falls down to his elbows, smashing his face down between your legs and letting his thick black tongue slip inside you once again. He pumps it in and out, four tentacles sliding up to wrap around your thighs once more. But one of them ventures even further up as he pleasures you, slipping around your neck and wiggling to the side of your mouth.

Your jaws snap open faster than your brain even registers the invitation, accepting his secondary sex organ into your mouth with a heady groan. It coils with pleasure as you wildly suck, reaching up to smash the rest of it into your chest and stimulate it even further.

X makes a choked noise and burrows his tongue even deeper into you, fingers digging into your hips like vices as he completes his lesson from the showers. Another tentacle slides up to receive an enthusiastic sucking, which you gladly accept, changing up your technique to jerk off the long shafts while the tips quiver around your tongue.

But suddenly the delicious mouth is gone, and X is caging you in with all fours, cock flushing a deep shade of black at the tip. As if he might literally pop if you just tap the sensitive slit.

"Please fuck me," you whimper, spreading your legs even further and reaching for him.

He growls again, and then his lips are pressing into you everywhere, your breasts, your stomach, and back up to your neck. This is more sensual than sex you've had with any human, and you don't even have to fucking TALK to him.

He finally pulls away and lowers himself, reaching down to hold the base and clumsily shuffle closer to your entrance. His incredible height allows you to stare up at his straining neck and corded chest, defined even through the shirt. Moaning, you wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him down closer and crying out when the tip nudges against your folds. You bite your lip; can you take him? He's easily as thick as a grown man's forearm.

Before you can have any second thoughts, he thrusts too hard too fast, slamming his thick flared head past your clenching entrance and eliciting a shocked scream. He yanks away and wobbles, looking alarmed and surprised, studying the red smear on his cock with faint curiosity. Your thighs shake and tears sting your eyes as you grit your teeth in frustration. 

"I...think you're too big," you whisper, disappointment blooming in your stomach as he cocks his head and looks back down, taking a knee in each hand.

"Wha-," you cry, gasping when all four of his slick tentacles gently nudge at your entrance and slide in easily, stinging the tear but otherwise filling you rather comfortably. You grin and buck down against him, gripping the thin white sheet and letting your mouth fall open to let out a strangled cry.

"Why didn't I think of that," you gasp, writhing against him as the tentacles slowly become engorged, stretching you gently and preparing you to take him once more.

He's trembling, struggling not to simply ravage you down into the mattress and impatiently take his ultimate pleasure. But he doesn't, instead tearing at the corner of the makeshift bed and baring his teeth in a feral snarl. The sight and stimulation threaten to send you over the edge, so you struggle up and shove against his chest, pushing until he stumbles and falls backwards onto his ass. Of course, you're nowhere near strong enough to budge him, but in his desire to be obedient he follows the direction of your push. You climb up and straddle him, snuggling against his chest as he realizes what you want and pulls you closer. The tentacles come out to play once more and start to wander all over your body; you reach down and settle yourself over his tip.

You split open for him again, less violently this time, but your legs shake with the sharp stinging burn. Your teeth dig into his arm to keep from making any pained noises and alarming him; you wiggle down further whilst rubbing your clit and he hunches over you, making a wheezing sound and drawing his knees up ever so slightly.

"Y'like that baby?" you pant, wincing in triumph as his head finally pushes up against your cervix. He bucks up in response, and you start to rock, biting down on one of his belt straps and clinging to another for support. His hands wander back down to grip your ass, pinning you down onto him as your pace gets more desperate.

"Oh god, fuck, god please, I'm ready now," you sob after a good fifteen minutes of the intimate lapfuck, leaning back and tugging at the straps to get him to return to his original position. Something changes in his face and he stares down at you with a predatory expression, finally ready to gather the fruit of his patience.

He lunges, smashing you down against the mattress and barking out a bellow of ecstasy. His hips jackhammer into you, slamming in and out, likely tearing you even further. But the pain is morphing into pleasure and the slimy tentacles move to stuff themselves back into your mouth, cutting off most noises except your screaming moans. Your eyes roll back and your mind jumbles. If he loses control for even a second, he could snap you like a toothpick or bust your skull like an overripe melon. The intensity is almost too much, taking your mind by storm and shocking your system with simultaneous fear and pleasure.

Without warning, it hits. 

The orgasm slams into you like a runaway train. You quiver against him, writhing over his hands that are beneath your back, screeching groans exploding out of you as you start to spasm around him. In the haze you can vaguely hear him let out an earsplitting roar, and a rush of liquid warmth floods you from the inside out.

You blink with wide eyes as he finishes with a series of huffs, wincing as he pulls away and slumps onto his side, pulling you against his chest and starting up a deep content rumble, tentacles holding you along with his arms.

But the moment is quickly interrupted by the click of the door, Annette's familiar footsteps echoing in the room. X jolts and goes stock still, as if he sees her as a threat.

"Well, that was...impressive, to say the least. I don't believe there will be any need for containment during your little um..mating sessions now, although they must still be recorded. T-00 will be released into the general population of the facility and beyond to help with the other creatures and missions, but unfortunately it seems that his hormone imbalance is permanent, so you will be part of his maintenance regimen. His 'stress relief', if you will."

You nod as she flings the information at you, still dizzy from the literal mind fuck. X draws you even closer in a possessive hug but releases when Annette orders it, snapping her fingers and forcing him to redress himself. He finally replaces his hat and looks back at you, sullenly signing goodbye and following the handler out of the room.

You wobble up onto your feet and groan, leaning into the nurse that's come to take you back to quarantine, just in case. You'd be ashamed of being buck naked in front of so many strangers, but Annette's words are finally setting in.

His mate, more or less.

In relative privacy, and at least a better setting.

Just WAIT until Craw hears about this.


End file.
